


last of the real ones

by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Halloween, Rituals, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27336856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/pseuds/thewayofthetrashcompactor
Summary: Under Leia's wing, Rey is attending her first All Hallow's Eve festival as a witch-in-training. There's all kinds of magic in the air and a mysterious stranger who seems more familiar than he should.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22
Collections: Fall Fic Exchange 2020





	last of the real ones

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this is so late! The idea I originally came up with got very long, and I wanted to try to finish something for you, but this idea got... longer than expected too. I hope you enjoy!

Rey pauses just outside the boundary to check the ties to her mask one more time. She’s still not used to the feel of it balanced on the top half of her face, or the layers of skirts around her legs. The jagged cuts of tan and gray fabric don’t feel as heavy as she expected, and she’s confident she could still run if needed, but the whole get up -- it reminds her again she’s not the person she was a year, or even six months ago. She lets out a breath as she tugs on her jacket, feeling the chill of the fall afternoon. 

Leia covers Rey’s hand with hers. “You look lovely,” she assures her. 

Rey thinks that’s probably overstating the situation, but it doesn’t matter, because then Leia guides her over the nearly invisible line of ivy on the ground and the world changes. Rey isn’t here to be seen; she’s here to see, and there is so much to look at. 

Haphazard rows of tents and canopies stretch endlessly across what was just an empty field. At first glance, she could mistake it for a renaissance faire or music festival, but a second look starts to reveal the little things that don’t belong in the mundane world. A flock of butterflies in the warm reds and yellows of fall sit patiently on the autumn blooms of a nearby flower stall. The pots full of hot soups that waft the scent of fragrant spices along the path float just above the yellow flames keeping them warm. Under a heavy russet canopy that pools on the ground, a range of curiosities glint in the low light of scattered candles: crystals that gleam from within, small bones that can’t keep still, mirrors that don’t reflect what they should. Rey finds herself nearly breathless as she looks from one vendor to another, eager to take it all in but hardly knowing where to start. 

Filling the space between the booths to bursting is the strangest array of people Rey has ever seen. Plenty of humans in every kind of fashion, a patchwork of any style she could imagine and a few she’s never seen. Scattered throughout the crowds, Rey notices others who don’t entirely resemble the sort of people she’s used to seeing on the street. Some have vines trailing up their arms or twined across bare chests, leaves growing from their very skin. Some seem to glimmer unnaturally in the golden fall sunlight and others, the light passes right through them to the sights beyond. Rey glimpses horns twisting from heads of tousled hair, tails flicking underneath cloaks, and a few guests who give no pretense of humanity at all, towering above the crowd or scampering between others’ legs. She’s breathless trying to take it all in, and they’ve barely entered the gathering. Rey had known Leia was introducing her to a whole new world, but she hadn’t expected how full that world was. 

With a hand on her elbow, Leia guides Rey away from the boundary they’d passed through and down one of the paths. “What do you think?” she asks, her eyes crinkling. 

“It’s amazing,” Rey breathes. “I didn’t expect it to be so big. Does everyone come here?”

Leia shakes her head, still smiling. “There’s gatherings all over the world for all the major holidays, and there’s a few larger ones. Not everyone can get to Ahch-To, so there’s a smaller festival on the mainland, but the power here is so strong it draws covens and creatures from all over. Especially for All Hallow’s Eve.”

Rey nods, her head swiveling back and forth as they walk. She nearly bumps into a group of naked women chatting in front of the stalls and brushes against Leia’s full robe as she swerves around them. Most of the people around them wear masks like her and Leia, but not everyone. Rey’s fingers dance over the embossed lines of her mask, up to the ears poking from the top, before her hand falls away. “Where are we going?” she asks. 

“I wanted to take you to the circle before you go explore,” Leia explains. “The site is laid out like a wheel, and all the spokes lead to the center, so you should be able to find your way without too much trouble once you see some of it.”

They keep walking as Leia answers some of the infinite questions running through Rey’s mind. Leia moves with confident strides, no hesitation as she navigates through the thick crowds. Rey manages to keep up, though every step brings another new sight she wants to explore. It’s not only the booths selling food and wares she’d never even imagined. It’s the people, how they move and talk, languages she’s never heard, bodies flowing around each other as this strange gathering of beings come together as one. 

Rey sees how people react to Leia too. Most move out of her way without even seeming to realize they’re doing it, and Rey understands why. Leia has a certain aura about her no matter where she is, but Rey has never seen her fit in so well to her surroundings as she does here. More than a few people pause for a double-take when they notice Leia, even with her mask covering half her face, and it impresses on Rey like nothing else has just what kind of woman has taken her under her wing. Rey’s known Leia for a little under a year now, but only started working under her a few months ago, after --

Rey shakes her head, shying away from thoughts of the events that had led to the discovery of her powers. Memories of magic rushing from her, a too-still body, tears streaming down her face hover at the edge of her mind. 

Leia notices her distraction and her brow furrows. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Rey says quickly.

Leia pats her arm. “I’ll set up our tent after I show you around. It’s good to have a quiet spot to retreat to. I know it can be overwhelming at first, especially with your magic and as you’re still learning.“

“I’ll help,” Rey says. She’s so used to having to work for any scraps that Leia’s generosity still doesn’t feel entirely real to her. She believes in the older woman’s sincerity, but Rey can’t help but always feel as if she’s waiting for the bill to come due. She intends to use her time here to find what she needs to start living up to what Leia says she can be. 

The stalls crowd tighter together at the end of the row before opening up into a huge open circle. The sound of music that’s been winding under the chatter between the shops comes at once to the forefront, a bizarre melody with drums, strings, flutes, horns, and instruments Rey doesn’t even recognize. She doesn’t know the tune, but it flows into her, setting her foot tapping to the beat, almost impatient to join the dancers filling the clearing. 

Leia laughs softly next to her, and Rey glances over. Leia shakes her head. “I forgot what it was like to be here for the first time, to hear the festival music. I haven’t brought someone new since…” She trails off, smile faltering for a second before she hoists it back into place. She takes Rey’s hand in hers, and Rey feels the older woman’s fragile skin against hers and the press of her ever-present rings. Leia’s soft floral perfume briefly overwhelms the smells of the food and trinkets for sale around them. “I’m glad to have you here.” Leia tells her. 

Rey swallows. “I -- thank you for bringing me, for everything -- “

Leia waves her off. “Rey, you do me more good than you know. Besides what I already owe you, I want to see you succeed. I only wish I could train you as you deserve.”

“Leia -- “ Rey protests. Her mentor has taught her so much, even though her magic isn’t the same as Rey’s. Rey couldn’t ask for more, especially now that Leia has promised to introduce her to witches who might be able to apprentice Rey for the rest of her training. 

Leia smiles and squeezes Rey’s hand. “Go on and join the dance. I should ask around some of the old crones like me.”

Rey looks back over at the dancers, a chaotic tangle of bodies that somehow also move seamlessly with the strange and haunting music. “I don’t know how,” she protests, though she can’t deny the itch the song slips under her skin to join its rhythm. 

Leia’s smile widens. “No one does when they first join. It will come to you.” She gives Rey’s hand a last squeeze before stepping back. “Trust me, you won’t be the first newcomer. I’ll meet you again in a little while.” With that, she turns and walks with her usual sense of purpose to a small knot of older witches that Rey’s sure hold enough power to level the whole island. 

Rey bites her cheek as she turns towards the dancers, taking a few small steps that bring her closer to the throng. She watches them, trying to pick out a pattern she can join. Every time she tries to focus on a single dancer, the movements seem like random chaos, but when she watches the whole group, every person seems to move as a seamless part of the celebration. She finds herself bouncing on the balls of her feet, nearly tipping into the edges of the dance, but her thoughts hold her back. 

A dark-skinned man swings wide away from his partner and then her hand is in his. His warm brown eyes look into hers, his smile and invitation, and her hesitation melts away. She lets herself be pulled into the mass of bodies. 

In the first few seconds, she’s spun around so many times she can’t be sure which direction she came from. She doesn’t have time to think as she’s guided from one partner to another, the music and the press of bodies filling her senses. Her feet glide over the ground, knowing her direction better than she does. She has a brief moment of panic that she’s not the one in control, but then she lets herself relax. She trusts her instincts, and the swell of magic woven into the air has no evil intentions. She could leave the circle if she wanted, but she doesn’t want to. She wants to cling to this feeling of weightlessness, of knowing for once the next right step. 

She weaves between one couple and meets a petite woman with dark hair on the other side. They twirl each other around, tugging at each other’s hands, before yielding to the call of the dance and letting go. A man with curly dark hair sweeps Rey into another turn, and she laughs as she turns and crosses hands with a woman dressed only in vines. 

A gap appears on the edge of the circle, and Rey pauses for a breath, confusion filtering in through the haze cast by the music. A man appears, filling the gap, and Rey inhales swiftly. His broad frame fills the space left for him as he sweeps towards her. Time pauses for a fraction of a second, the golden afternoon light glinting off the silver lines embossed on his black mask and the thread sewn into his medieval tunic. The rest of the crowd shifts out of focus, leaving him in sharp relief.

Everything resumes with a rush and his long legs swiftly close the distance between them. A black cape flutters behind him, matching his tall black boots, skin tight black trousers, leather gloves, and tight long sleeves under the tunic. He looks as if he walked out of a fairy tale to appear before her. 

He stops in front of her and holds out his hand, a firm center in the chaos raging around them. Her breath sticks in her throat. She reaches out, wrapping her bare fingers around smooth black leather, and she’s swept into the dance once more. 

She doesn’t trade partners this time. The man encloses her hand in his, steady and warm, and his other hand falls to her waist. He doesn’t grab her, but she feels the heat of his touch through both of their layers as it pools in her stomach. Her free hand settles naturally on his shoulder. Together, they weave in and out of the dancers flowing around them, hands parting and passing over them, couples twirling around them to meet again on the other side. Rey can’t be sure which of them is leading, or if they’re being guided by something beyond them both.

The two of them move separately from the other dancers, locked only in each other’s orbit, and yet the pull of the music extends to them too. They’re entwined in the dance as much as anyone, orbiting around some unknown center. Rey doesn’t have to look around them to find her next step. The dance guides them, and Rey’s gaze stays fixed on the face of the man in her arms. Like hers, his mask only extends down to his cheekbones, leaving a plush set of pink lips uncovered. She’s mesmerized by the way they part ever so slightly, can’t help but imagine the feel of them. Black hair that glints like amber in the sunlight falls in curls around his angular face and the edges of his mask, down to his shoulders. Without thinking, her hand moves in towards his neck, letting some of the silk-soft strands brush over her fingers. 

His eyes never leave her either. His honey-brown gaze searches every inch of her face as hers does to his, leaving lingering heat in its wake. Her skirts twine around their legs, as if trying to draw them closer together. She feels light, heady, like his burning touch is the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground. Something’s building in her chest, reaching for some climax she doesn’t know. It overflows through her veins, into her skin, leaving her sparking with magic. 

The man inhales sharply and his eyes widen behind the mask. His fingers tighten around hers and on her waist. She feels something imperceptible, like a small crack in the air between them, and then she feels his magic race from his core out to meet hers. Her experience with witchcraft is limited, but she’s never heard of anything like the pull of their magics to each other. It’s magnetic, the racing of their energy towards each other. It pools in the points where they touch, the palms of their hands, his shoulder, her waist, gathering until the heat nearly scorches them both. Their magic pushes at the boundaries of their skin, eager for _more_ , itching with potential.

Rey can barely breath with the intensity between them, the air thick with the taste of their energy. She feels her magic reaching for some point between them, coiling and aching for release. She draws closer the the man, trying to ease the pressure between them, unable to stand the small distance left. 

She feels perched on the edge of something, ready to pitch over into unknown depths. In the second before she lets herself fall headlong into that pull, the man breaks away. The connection breaks, the energy dissipates, and everything feels suddenly and shockingly cold. 

She gasps, stumbling back, her body keening with a loss she doesn’t understand. Her eyes close, then fly back open to search for the man who left her reeling. In the second it takes her to gather herself, he’s disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments help fuel writing <3


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